


Joyful Noise

by st4rlabsforever (omaken)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 06:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20810828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omaken/pseuds/st4rlabsforever
Summary: Sylvain discovers that Felix is ticklish. It’s one of the worst days of Felix’s entire life.AKA Felix is a melodramatic grouch and Sylvain’s really just looking out for him.





	Joyful Noise

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written anything in ages but all the Felix and Sylvain supports really just jumped out and smacked me in the face

The Kingdom’s army is in high spirits after pushing through Merceus, the end finally in sight after so much bloodshed. Even Felix has to admit that seeing Mercedes and Annette giggle as Ashe regales them with no-doubt heroic tales of chivalrous and honorable knights, seeing Ingrid and Dedue open and relaxed for once – all of it brings a smile to his face.

Of course, in retrospect, there’s only so many things that can go right in Felix’s life before the universe decides it should all come crashing down on him. Take his current predicament for instance.

“Come  _ on _ , Fe, you’ve gotta live a little,” Sylvain wheedles as he steers them both away from Fhirdiad’s guest quarters and back towards the festivity and merriment in the dining hall. His arm is a warm (yet, welcome) weight on Felix’s shoulders.

“I have,” Felix says primly. “And now I’m retiring for the evening.” Stronger though Sylvain may be, Felix slips deftly out of his grasp and down a passageway he knows will double back towards his chambers. And because it’s Sylvain, he follows like a pesky fly unable to give up on its quarry. 

Once back in his chambers, Felix doesn’t even bother shutting the door as Sylvain slips in behind him.

“Don’t all the festivities just make you want to get out there and celebrate with everyone else?”

“Not even a little,” Felix says without missing a beat. They both know it – hell, Sylvain knows him better than any of the Blue Lions – but Felix has learned that much of the inane prattling is just a habit Sylvain falls into when he himself needs distance from the carefully crafted persona he’s built for himself.

Sylvain plops himself unceremoniously on the bedsheets. “But then you wouldn’t get to see this pretty face.”

“How tragic,” Felix says, but takes a seat beside Sylvain anyway against his better judgment. 

“You’re no fun,” Sylvain pouts, one arm behind his head as he shows no intention of letting Felix sleep in peace anytime soon. He reaches out a finger and jabs Felix in the side.

Felix will swear up and down until the day they die that the subsequent high-pitched squeak absolutely did  _ not _ come from his own mouth, but the damage has already been done.

Sylvain bolts upright, mouth agape. “You’re…?”

“No,” Felix says quickly.  _ Too _ quickly.

A slow smirk that’s sure to haunt his dreams for the next dozen moons spreads across Sylvain’s face. (And yet – and yet, it’s the same smirk that never fails to cause Felix’s heart to flutter like so many birds in the wind.)

“Don’t even think about it.” 

It’s an empty threat and they both know it. And its effectiveness is immediately neutralized when Felix sneaks a glance at the entryway to his chambers. Sylvain’s smirk grows impossibly larger, body firmly planted between Felix and salvation. But on the other hand Felix is far quicker – and thank  _ fuck _ Sylvain chronically neglects his speed drills during training. Felix might yet escape with his dignity in tact. 

Of course, the way it actually goes down is like this: Felix dives off the bed and Sylvain moves to intercept immediately. They tumble to the floor in a graceless pile of limbs and the struggle is short and pathetic. Grappling has never been Felix’s strong suit – Sylvain is bigger and several inches taller, after all. The latter manages to wrap both arms around Felix’s torso from behind, kneading the empty spaces between ribs and squeezing sensitive skin beneath his navel. 

The result is instantaneous. 

Felix knows it’s possible to cry from laughter – he’s witnessed it first-hand from Annette – but it’s another thing entirely for his traitorous body to give in so easily. And then he has no more opportunity for rational thought at all as the laughter consumes him entirely and he lets off a string of curses and a dozen other choice words disparaging Sylvain’s bloodline. 

“Wow, Fe. This is pretty bad,” Sylvain tsks. “I mean, it’s a good thing we’re making these discoveries now, right? Imagine if the Imperial army caught you and you spilled all of the Kingdom’s secrets like this.”

“That’s not – I can’t even –” A pointed squeeze to a particularly ticklish spot at the bottom of his ribcage sends him into another fit of giggles.

It’s infuriating, and Sylvain  _ knows _ he’s being infuriating. But every barbed retort falls to laughter as Sylvain utilizes his newfound power, the absolute bastard. In all the arguments Felix has ever had with Sylvain, he can think of nothing more horrifying than not being able to get in the last word.

Sylvain just laughs right along with him.

Eventually, he relinquishes his hold when it becomes evident that Felix is, at this juncture, literally incapable of fighting back. With every fiber of his being screaming at him that he cannot, under any circumstances, allow Sylvain to win, Felix does the unthinkable and curls up in a defensive ball in an attempt to stop the onslaught. It’s an exercise in futility. Sylvain pokes and prods and squeezes at a hundred different spots that Felix had no idea it was even possible to be ticklish in, and then this last line of defense falls too.

Finally, Sylvain must grow bored of how tragically one-sided this fight is because he relents, and Felix finds himself able to breathe in precious air once more.

“You,” Felix gasps. “You fucking –” Before he can level the full extent of his displeasure at Sylvain, his entire body spasms with another wave of laughter that undermines his point entirely.

Sylvain’s perched on his elbows beside him and smiles magnanimously. “Me,” he says serenely.

“Incorrigible.”

But Felix isn’t sure his facial muscles are even capable of frowning at this point, so even this last barb is ruined by the smile on his face. And yet, he feels lighter than he has in ages. They’re going to win the war, his friends are safe, and Sylvain is by his side as ever. He’d rather face down a horde of Titanus than admit this last part out loud, but knows it hasn’t gone unheard if the tender look Sylvain’s giving him is any indication. 

“See? I knew you could let loose,” Sylvain says cheerfully, running a hand through Felix’s hair and ruffling it. Had this been anyone else but Sylvain, Felix would have skewered them with his sword on the spot. Instead, once his nerves have settled down and he’s confident he can get the words out with sufficient scorn sans pesky residual laughter, he settles for the next best thing.

“There will be retribution for this, you know.”

Sylvain hoists them both up from the floor and laughs, a full-throated thing that makes the soft lines of his face look entirely too good in the light. “Looking forward to it, buddy.”

Rodrigue and House Fraldarius had a saying:  _ Never wrestle with a hog. You can only end up dirtying yourself and besides, the hog likes it. _ Loathe as Felix was to admit it, his old man had a point. Probably.

It’s still not going to stop Felix from spending the next week meticulously planning and exacting his revenge, though. After all, it’s a matter of dignity and honor.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed reading this :) as always, comments give me life.
> 
> feel free to come scream at me about sylvix: st4rlabsforever.tumblr.com


End file.
